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Lies (Between The Sheets)	By : GhostHelwig Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1878 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Lies (Between The Sheets)
- 1
Disclaimer � I do not
own or profit from Fullmetal Alchemist. And I never will. That�s about as likely as Ed suddenly being
over six feet tall... (*lol*)

Rated
R for sexual situations, slash, and INCEST. Yes, INCEST. This has been clearly labeled as an Ed/Al
story, so read at your own discretion. That is all.

Written
for the recent contest at the elricest community on livejournal.
This fic took second place in the long smut category (smut, who? Me? Never. �lol�), for which I
am amazed and grateful. Check out the
community (at http:// www.livejournal.com/community/elricest)
for fics and art that are much greater than my own.

Anyway, enjoy. Peace, all.

***

Lies (Between The Sheets)

by Ghost Helwig

***

I believe in you, Big
Brother.

Do you, Al? Do you
really?

I believe in you.

But that�s a mistake,
Al. Such a mistake.

***

Ed was sitting by another window in another room not theirs,
staring out at another street they would never call home. Al watched him, wondering what his big brother
was thinking � wondering if he�d ever
know what his big brother was thinking.

�Ed?�

Such a soft question, delivered in the soft voice his armor
had somehow allowed him to retain. Is my voice a part of my soul, then?

Ed always reacted as though it was � even now, he turned at
the sound of it, forcing out a smile that was an ill-fit on his face. Al tried to smile back, but of course he
couldn�t - armor couldn�t smile. Yet he
always tried...

�Why don�t you believe in God?�

Not the question Al had wanted
to ask, not really, but it was so much safer
than the other (do you love me, Ed? Really love me?).

Ed turned back to the window. �Don�t waste your time thinking about that,
Al,� he chided, voice unusually gruff. �We need to be focusing on more important
things, like finding the Philosopher�s Stone.�

Of course. The Stone. They had so many of their hopes pinned on it,
they focused on it so much already, Al could�ve
resented it � if he were the kind of person prone to resentment. But that Alphonse Elric was not, had never
been, could never be, so though it made him sad, knowing Ed was doing this for
him but that it took Ed away from
him, he put such selfish sentiments aside.
Ed was so good to him, better than any older brother needed to be; it
would be wrong of him, churlish of him, to desire more...

And yet, he could feel himself starting to speak, a
sensation made strange by the fact that he had none of the things within him
that made speech possible and he knew it � no voice box, no tongue, no warm
inviting mouth...

Not like Ed�s mouth, Ed�s body, at all.

�When we get our bodies back, Brother,� he whispered, �what
will we do?�

Ed glanced back at him, and this time a smile was lighting
his whole face, from lips to sparkling golden eyes.

�C�mon, Al. What won�t
we do?�

Inside himself, Al smiled.

***

Al was glaring at him,
as much as a suit of armor could
glare. Accusing him � that�s what those hollow eyes were
doing. Al knew, knew all his secrets,
all his failures, all his hidden, disgusting desires...

�Do you hate me, Al?�
he asked. Didn�t want to know the answer, didn�t want to know but had to, he was built that way, because the truth was always something he
sought out and this particular Truth mattered more than most others - and Al
smiled, metal lips curling in an unmistakable smirk.

�Why, Big
Brother. Of course I do.�

Ed woke up clawing the bedsheets.

Al never slept, not really � his mind shut down, but it was
more like an extreme form of meditation rather than sleep. (While waiting for Ed to recover from losing
two of his limbs, Aunt Pinako had taught Al
meditation, wise enough to know that if he stayed awake day after day, insanity
would soon follow.) So he didn�t need to
wake up in order to go to Ed�s side.

Ed blinked up at him, this huge, imposing suit of armor that
housed all that was left of his beloved brother, and felt that old familiar ache begin somewhere below his
stomach. It physically hurt, thinking of all Al had lost, all
Ed had taken from him...

He opened his arms.

It was awkward; Al was not meant to climb into his arms, not
anymore. (The elder brother held the younger as he slept, breathing the scent of
his skin, a comfort in a world where they had nothing.) But Ed was adamant, and Al was needing, or maybe it was the other way around � and either
way they were learning, learning how to work around the limitations of bedding
down with iron.

Ed rested his head on a chest so cold and hard it seemed to
burn into his skin; the upper half of his body had to be draped over Al in
order for him to even see his younger brother�s face. But he had
to see him, always had to see him, as though somehow, someway, he would see
Al�s real, human eyes looking at him...

He never saw what he was looking for. He wondered what Al saw when he looked at him.
Did he see smooth skin where only automail
remained, or did their shared metal limbs grant him some sort of unwelcome
peace...?

Ed never could find the guts to ask.

Though it was impossible to say for sure, he knew Al was staring
at him. Al did that a lot, even when
they weren�t this close together � just stared at him, memorizing him from head
to the tips of his toes... He stretched,
preened, under Al�s gaze now, deliberately, and Al laughed.

The laughter faded too quickly. Ed bent his head down to Al�s chest, pressed
his lips above where his heart would be if he still had one. (And
you do, Al. I swear that you do.) His lips came away cool.

It wasn�t fair. Al
was such a warm person,
his body should have been warm, too...

Gently, carefully, Ed bent and flicked his tongue over the
metal he knew would only heat if he shared his own bodily warmth, licked up and
down where Al�s nipple should have been, would
have been if Ed hadn�t screwed up both
their lives...

He was so caught up in the never-ending cycle of his guilt
he didn�t hear Al whimpering beneath him until Al�s iron fingers wound in his
hair. He looked up, amazed � Al couldn�t
feel what he was doing, couldn�t feel anything, not anymore...

Oh.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he looked away,
ashamed. How foolish and cruel of him,
teasing his brother with what he could never have-

What Al couldn�t possibly want, anyway.

�Ed-�

He shook his head, waving his hand vaguely to quiet Al � Al,
whose voice had sounded strained, not at all like him. He�s
disgusted by you, you damn fool, letting yourself get carried away, scaring him
� what if I really scared him? Can I talk myself out of this? Can I say anything that won�t make me sound
like the pervert I am?

He licked his lips.
He could still taste the iron on his tongue-

�Ed, just come here.�

But he couldn�t.

�Ed... please?�

That�s not fair,
Al. That�s not fair at all.

But he turned back anyway, watched with disbelieving, curious
eyes as Al moved, as Al literally opened
up-

Then he understood.

This shouldn�t have been so easy. But it was.
He climbed inside his younger brother, and it was just... easy.

Al closed around him.
It took a moment for Ed�s eyes to adjust to the dimness, but the
moonlight managed to filter through Al�s eyeholes, to shimmer on the dark
symbol not far from his head-

He slid a little lower, suddenly nervous. He couldn�t let anything happen to that
anchor, to the only tangible thing holding Al here-

�If you ever leave, Al,� he said softly, �I hope you know
I�m going with you.�

Al�s voice was just a whisper, but it still seemed loud;
echoing around him, surrounding him... encompassing him in warmth.

�I�m not going anywhere.�

But you will. When I get you your body back, you won�t need
me anymore, you won�t depend on me � you�re gonna move on, little brother. We�ll grow apart. And that�s good, right? It�s natural.
I can let this go, let these feelings go, once you�re whole again and
moving on...

There was a lump in Ed�s throat � it felt like all the words
he couldn�t say, all the tears he couldn�t shed, all the secrets he held, were
all bunched up there, trying to choke him...
He swallowed around it, repeatedly, until he could breathe again.

�I can feel your doubts, Big Brother. You�ve got no faith in me at all, do you?�

Ed bristled, was about to bark out an angry retort that
probably would�ve hurt his own ears and just amused Al, when Al spoke
again. The sound of it rumbled in Ed�s
chest.

�But I can prove it to you.�

�Oh yeah?� Ed hated himself at that moment, hated how
cocky, condescending, and false he
sounded, but he couldn�t help himself, couldn�t stop. �How?�

There was a whisper, a murmur so low he couldn�t hear it, even
though it should�ve hit his ears loud and clear. Impatiently he tapped inside Al�s head,
careful not to even brush that forbidding blood stain with his arm. Al laughed again, and this time, this close,
Ed could feel it along his bones, feel it connect straight to his groin, making
him blush-

Al whispered again, a little louder, and now Ed could hear
it and feel it and oh my God, it sent
blood careening through his body-

�I want to feel you... touch yourself... brother.�

Wha...?

�I want to show you... how much I... how much I really love
you, and I... but I... I can�t...� He broke off suddenly, not liking the whine
in his own voice. But Ed suddenly
couldn�t hear him anyway, not above the pounding of his own heart and the
quick, agitated (excited, impossibly
excited) rush of blood within his own veins.

But why � You don�t � You can�t possibly � This
isn�t real � I�m still dreaming � And I don�t care-

I don�t care.

He always slept shirtless (and I can feel you along my skin even where we don�t touch, Al; I feel you everywhere), but
undressing completely was out of the question � he could never shimmy totally
out of his clothes in such a confined space.
So he pushed his shorts down just enough, fighting off shyness, wishing
Al would speak again and grateful that he didn�t...

He cupped himself with burning fingers, elbow jutting into
Al�s metal insides, arm twisting only semi-comfortably beneath him. Ridiculous. This whole thing was ridiculous, it would
prove nothing, and all he�d get out of it was a cramp-

But then, Al moaned.

Such a small sound, but it vibrated all the way up his
spine, lighting something in his brain; something primal. He could do this,
because Al wanted it, wanted to see and feel and know even though he couldn�t
possibly be seeing or hearing or feeling or knowing
anything �

Al wanted. Therefore,
he would provide. Whatever
the hell the consequences turned out to be.

Mustang would say I�m
going to hell for this, I bet. But he
doesn�t realize-

He thrust into his hand, brushing Al with his fingers on the
downward thrust, and Al moaned around him like he could feel it with his skin
when he had no skin, nothing to feel
with but metal that could never mimic the sensation of human flesh (and Ed
would know)-

This is already my hell.

Ed didn�t bother with his hand anymore � not with Al making those sounds that set his skin aflame,
with Al surrounding him on all sides and the heat he was creating making sweat
drip down his face, his chest. Instead
he thrust directly against Al, slick and newly warmed iron bad
for friction but he didn�t care, couldn�t possibly care. Because this was as close as he could get �
it was all he would get. All he�d ever get.

I made it for myself.

He was thrusting quicker, and Al was whimpering again, and
he understood � Al couldn�t really feel like he could, but he did feel. How could he think he didn�t? He was just as bad as that little voice in
Al�s head that had been telling him he wasn�t human.

Perhaps he was responsible for that voice, too.

Time enough to berate himself later. What mattered right then was that Al had felt pleasure when he licked him,
when he pushed against him � maybe not physical pleasure in the strictest
sense, but still pleasure. And that was something, right?

That had to be something.

He pushed harder, faster, hit his back against Al�s front
and cried out. Al echoed him a
split-second later, and Ed could feel those tears in his eyes again, those
tears that simply branded him as weak-

And then, finally, he was coming hard inside his brother,
and it was so close to what he wanted
that for a moment a hint of the peace he so desired touched him (and that was wrong, for one so undeserving
of peace as he). He collapsed
against Al, hearing the echoes of Al�s voice fading away around him. A few silent tears escaped his eyes.

�I love you, Al,� he whispered. But he fell asleep (in the wet spot and all) before he could hear what answer Al gave,
if any.

***

Another day, another train ride.

Ed was staring blindly out one window, Al another. They hadn�t spoken in hours.

It was quietly driving Ed just a little bit mad.

But what could he say, now that he�d done the
unforgivable? What could he possibly say?

I love you - I�m sorry
- If you want me to go away I will � If you want me to shut up and die I can do
that too � But don�t freeze me out, Al � I couldn�t bear it if I turned you
cold-

�You�re going to catch a cold, brother. Close the window.�

He glanced up, and Al was looking at him, face unreadable
because it wasn�t really a face, not
a human one at any rate, not one that moved and expressed and contained nuances
of texture and movement that armor could never achieve in a million years...

I stole Al�s face.

He wanted to cry.
Maybe sob incoherently on Al�s steel shoulder.

He reached up instead, blindly, closing the window.

They fell back into silence.

***

They couldn�t go on like this. Not speaking, barely looking at each other �
it wasn�t right. Wasn�t
healthy.

It was, in fact, going to get Ed killed.

His line of work was too dangerous for him to be distracted
by little things like (how the hell he was going to get Al to not hate him anymore) a fight with his younger
brother. Distraction led to
carelessness. Carelessness led to death.

Despite what Ed thought of his brother�s current feelings
(and what Al thought of � feared during
� his brother�s depression), neither of them wanted that.

So Al � always the one willing to put his pride away, to
back down for the sake of Ed�s � was the one who broke the silence.

He breaks
silences. I break lives.

�Ed... what�s wrong with you?�

Ed blinked over at him, forced to look at the huge steel
form he�d bonded his brother�s soul to (trapped
his brother�s helpless soul within) just so he could see what emotion
showed in that faceless form. Of course
he couldn�t see anything. That never
once stopped him from looking, from trying to see more than would ever be
there...

�I...� didn�t mean to
hurt you, Al, never meant to take it that far �I just... don�t feel like
talking.� Ever. �You understand.� Please,
please understand.

Al�s armor head was still turned in his direction. Ed couldn�t turn away, though he wanted
to. Badly. Oh so very badly.

�I believe in you, Big Brother,� Al whispered, just when Ed
had thought maybe Al would stay quiet, would respect his solemn silence and icy
distance and leave him alone. He really
should�ve known better. I believe in you, Big Brother.

Do you, Al? Do you really?

�I believe in you.�

A little louder, this time. As though Ed hadn�t heard him; Ed couldn�t
help but hear him.

But that�s a
mistake, Al. Such a mistake. Too bad he knew Al would never believe that
if he told him.

However...

There was something else he could do. Something that would sever this horrible hold
he had over Al, something that would spare them both so much pain in the
future-

-something
that will let me run � let me hide � let me fall on my own-

-if he could just get Al to believe him. And after he�d nearly blown it all the night
before...

I believe in you.

But then again...

Maybe his cover wasn�t blown at all.

So he said it, let the lie spread over his tongue, sink deep
into his bones and freeze what was left of his heart.

�I�m in love with Winry.�

***

They didn�t talk about his confession. They didn�t talk at all, after that. The silence was ice in his already frozen
veins.

He wondered if that was what Al felt like, in that cage of
steel and not-muscle created by a well-intentioned but ultimately fruitless
attempt to �save� him. As though anyone
could be considered saved, when they were forced to live inside a blanket of
unfeeling iron...

Or maybe Al did
feel, in some weird, not-human, not-quite-normal way � he hadn�t yet figured
that out, how it might work, and he was never going to ask Al � and maybe Al
wasn�t cold at all, ever. That thought
was vaguely comforting.

Until it occurred to him, when they got off at their
station, that just because one wasn�t cold didn�t mean one was warm.

Have I condemned you
to a life of numbness, Al?

Al looked at him, couldn�t even force a fake smile onto a
face that was unable to do such a small human thing as smile.

God... I�m afraid
maybe I have.

He turned away. He
couldn�t look anymore.

***

Roy Mustang was at first utterly unwilling to send Edward
Elric out on a mission so soon after his return from the last one, purely because
thwarting Edward Elric was a favorite pastime of his (or so Edward Elric firmly
believed. And he was not, precisely, wrong).
But after a few days of - what Roy called �whining� and Ed called
�negotiating in a deliberately less than pleasant tone� and everyone else agreed was definitely very loud
(and very annoying) � arguing, Roy
finally agreed to send him out again. Somewhere West. Ed
neither knew nor cared where.

Roy told him, of
course. Gave him
mission parameters and everything.
Ed sincerely hoped some thoughtful person would think to send written
instructions along to him before he left (he knew that bastard Colonel
wouldn�t, just to be difficult), because he had absolutely no clue where he was going. Or why. That hardly mattered.

What mattered was the getting gone. As fast as possible,
preferably.

But before the leaving, there was the explaining. He hoped � in vain, he was pretty sure � that
it would prove to be less painful than the three days he was �forced� to be in
the Colonel�s face. (Why oh why did Mustang have to make it
so damn hard to get his own way?)

He finally entered the room he was sharing with Al � only to
be confronted by one large, seriously pissed off suit of armor standing beside
the half-packed suitcase he�d foolishly left peeking just out from underneath
his bed.

Oh yes. This would definitely be more painful. Proving yet again that
hoping and praying were for suckers.

Where is God now, with
His two children crying here alone?

�You�re leaving.�

Funny how a simple statement could sound
so threatening. Ed could only nod helplessly.

�And I... I�m not coming with you. Am I.�

No question there, either.
Again, Ed simply shook his head.

That armored head bent.
Ed wanted to reach out, to touch, to comfort with his body because dammit the right
words had never come to him when he needed them, not ever-

But Al was already turning away, facing the wall.

�Al,� he whispered, �Al, I-�

�You lied
to me, brother.�

That stopped Ed cold.

�Al, wha-�

�You lied to me. You said it would be me and you, always. You swore you�d never � you swore we�d get
our bodies back together.� And then, as though it were the truth of the
world-

�You lied.�

Yes Al I lied �
because I had to � don�t you see � I
love you � that�s why I lied-

He took a step forward, and faltered.

I didn�t lie to you then � I lied on the
train � why can�t you see that � are you blind-

Have I blinded you?

He reached out one hand, touched trembling fingers to Al�s
armored back. Wondered if Al could feel
it, and knew that he kind of could
(whether just because of a change in air pressure behind him or what, something
he could sense if not quite feel with his
skin-that-wasn�t-actually-skin) because Al pulled away. Just a tiny bit. Just enough to hurt.

And that was how Ed knew, really, that he was doing the
right thing. He had to be. Or else what was he doing this for?

It wouldn�t hurt so
much unless it had to be done. Like
lancing a wound, a snakebite, so the poison doesn�t
kill you.

Please, Al. Don�t ask me to stay here. Don�t ask me to poison you.

�I... I�m sorry, Al.�

And that wasn�t a lie.
But Al stayed turned away, not looking at him.

Ed moved back; moved away.
Screw the suitcase � he didn�t need any of his things. He was leaving the most important part of him
behind anyway.

�I...�

I�ll be back for you �
I swear I will � when I can be clean for you � when I can stop thinking of
doing things to you that would make Mom hate me � do you understand Al? � I
love her too-

�I�ll be back for you.�

And maybe that was
a lie. But that was okay. He figured they both deserved such a little
one.

He turned his back, and went out the door. When it closed behind him, he thought he
heard Al sob.

That�s stupid. Al can�t cry.

But he thought he understood. He couldn�t cry, either-

But he did. On the inside.

Where no one could see, no one could judge � the same place
he hid all his other shameful things. Like lust. And frailty. And all his many failures.

And most hidden of all, the memory of one soft, loving
voice, imploring him as he followed his little brother out the door to play-

Watch after him, Ed,
won�t you?

�I swear I will, Mother,� he murmured to a memory. �The only way I know how.�

He straightened his shoulders, and began the long, slow walk
to the train station, alone.

--fini--
- 1
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Lies (Between The Sheets)